When she snaps up her head and pins me with her gaze, now golden with whatever emotion is coursing through her, I take a sip of my drink.
“Signore,” she says, her tone full of resolve, “I’ve come to ask you to marry me.”
Rafael
Ifucking choke.
While the alcohol burns in my throat, making its way into my lungs, I blink several times at the woman in front of me.
“Pardon me,” I say, “but what in the fuck did you just suggest?”
Carina’s mouth pinches at the corners, no doubt holding back a scathing reply. Instead, she gives me a curt nod. “You heard me correctly, signor—”
I bark out a laugh, that’s also partially a wheeze. “Don’t you think you should call me Rafael, given that remarkable proposal? Not that I’ve agreed to it, but the formalities between us seem quite pointless. Or perhaps it’s just me.”
She takes a deep breath. Whether it’s to calm herself or to keep from strangling me, I’m not sure. Vexing Carina is too entertaining for me to pass up. Besides, she tossed a verbal grenade in my lap. My cock damn near shriveled at the idea of matrimony.
“Rafael.” She rolls every syllable of my name across her tongue and lips, and my cock rises from the grave to stand at attention once again. Admittedly, it doesn’t take much, but Carina’s voice is that of a siren, luring me into a pool of lust that I’d happily drown in.
“Carina,” I reply. “Now that we are somewhat on the same page, why don’t you explain what’s going on.”
She raises the tumbler and downs half the contents with a small wrinkle of her nose. “Of course.”
“That was meant to be sipped.” I arch a brow in challenge. “Not that I can’t replace the Cognac, but at least appreciate it for the quality.”
Her hazel eyes brighten with irritation, right before she empties the glass. With a saccharine smile, she sets the tumbler on the coffee table in front of her. A proverbial gauntlet if I ever saw one.
“The second swallow went down much nicer than the first,” she says sweetly. “Thank you for your hospitality and allowing me to sample it.”
The second swallow went down much nicer than the first. Fucking hell.
What a brat. If she were mine, I’d punish her and by the end of the night she’d repeat those exact words, but with my cock in her mouth and me coming down her throat.
Actually, the jury’s still out on this.
In fact, the more I think about spanking her ass raw, the more I’m inclined to snatch her hair and wrap it around my fist. Having her pinned down, across my lap, with her bare ass blushing from my hand is a satisfying image.
It takes everything I have to shove that visual aside and concentrate on the matter at hand. “Why are you here?”
Her face, once rosy because of anger or nervousness, pales noticeably. My entire body goes on alert. I know there isn’t a threat here, but something has scared Carina enough for her inner fortitude to wither right before my eyes, and for her to seek me out at an odd hour of the night.
“I’m in trouble,” she says, her voice a shaky whisper. “Someone’s trying to kill me.”
I’m one second away from demanding answers, but because of the fear swirling in her gaze, I know it’ll be counterproductive. Carina and I walk in the same world, so it’s not wrong of me to assume that whatever danger she’s in originates from someone who also comes from there.
I lean forward and rest my forearm on the tops of my thighs. “Who?”
“Caruso.”
My enemy’s name coming from her lips is the last thing I expected.
And here I thought whipping her ass would make me happy… Hearing her mention Caruso is akin to her sucking my cock.
Another thing the jury’s still out on.
“Go on.”
She nibbles on her bottom lip for several moments, turning the plump skin red. “I…” Then without warning, Carina jumps to her feet and clutches her purse to her chest. “I made a mistake in coming here. I—I don’t know who I can trust. I have to go.”
